


Little Ironies

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2010-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-06 22:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Scorpius Malfoy meets Luna Lovegood for the first time, he is seventeen years old and devastated. His mother died two days ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Ironies

**Author's Note:**

> **Dedication:** Written for khateh in the first round of hp_cross_fest.  
> **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe - all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. Written for fun, not profit.  
> **Pairing(s):** Scorpius Malfoy/Luna Lovegood (Mention of Harry/Draco)  
> **Warning(s):** A bit of underage kissing, (not terribly explicit) het sex between two consenting adults, some snark and unpleasantness, an unsolved murder mystery.

When Scorpius Malfoy meets Luna Lovegood for the first time, he is seventeen years old and devastated. 

His mother died two days ago.

Nevertheless, he is fiercely determined to put on a brave face. Showing weakness wouldn't be fitting of a Malfoy, not even at a time of great personal tragedy. 

_No. Especially not then._ 

So when they're formally introduced, he gives her a firm handshake and a polite smile.

Auror Lovegood, his father informs him, is a Seer. She has already helped the Ministry solve plenty of difficult cases. 

Scorpius doesn't hold much stock to the so-called art of Divination. 

He has met Sybil Trelawney, for one thing, and moreover, unlike Lovegood, he is a traditional kind of Ravenclaw. If something can't be explained through science, reason or traditional magic, it's either a deceptive trick or someone's overactive imagination is getting the better of them.

Still…

If tea leaves and crystal balls are what it'll take to catch the bastard who killed his mother, then just this once, Scorpius is willing to keep an open mind, especially since the other Aurors obviously haven't the slightest clue. All they can confirm thus far is that there were magical forces involved; the worst kind.

A Dark artefact had been delivered to Malfoy Manor. It was cleverly disguised as a present; a pretty music box with dolphins.

Astoria had always loved dolphins. 

~*~

Luna Lovegood attends the funeral together with Harry Potter, whose ex-wife is blatantly absent. 

As fate would have it, Potter is the one leading the murder inquiry. 

Were it not for the numbing grief, Scorpius might be amused at the irony. 

His father never settled his differences with Potter, not even when Potter's youngest son became Scorpius' best friend. 

To this day, the two men can scarcely manage a civil conversation. Harsh words and bitter accusations fly every time they meet.

Scorpius sighs. How this case is supposed to get solved under these circumstances is anyone's guess, but as far as he can see, the odds aren't too good, really; unless Potter's Gryffindor need for justice ends up outweighing a few decades' worth of resentment.

"I suppose I could say we should be thankful she didn't suffer," Albus offers kindly as he puts his arm around Scorpius' shoulders, "but that wouldn't be much of a comfort, would it, mate? She's still gone, and she's not coming back."

Scorpius nods slowly, fighting back tears and doing his utmost to ignore the other mourners.

He has heard them talking—whispering amongst themselves—about that poor boy and his dad who only have each other left now and how will they ever cope in that big house, just the two of them with nothing but a bunch of old elves for company?

Scorpius tries not to take offence, but honestly…

It's precisely as his father says; they're Malfoys. They'll get by. They always have. They always will, and somehow, they'll find a way to come out on top, too. That's just how things work.

Though Scorpius probably shouldn't be surprised that none of the miscreants present here can understand something so plainly obvious. 

His father is right about that, too. Most people can't be bothered to make good use of the brains they were born with.

Scorpius catches sight of Lovegood who is slowly heading in his direction. He vaguely wonders what kind of person she is and what possessed the Ministry to employ someone so eccentric. 

She doesn't look like she's one of them. With her bright purple gown, glittering pink pearls and huge crystal earrings, she doesn't seem to belong here, either. Who dresses like that for a funeral?

"I'm very sorry for your loss," she says softly, placing a pale, thin hand on his shoulder. 

Scorpius doesn't appreciate physical contact from strangers—it's safe to say he abhors it—and yet he doesn't pull away.

He blames that on his confusion, mostly, and on the way her wide eyes tell him that her expression of empathy is sincere, not merely a string of empty, well rehearsed words dusted off for the occasion.

A few days later, Scorpius happens to hear that Luna Lovegood lost her mother at a young age, too.

~*~

A week after the funeral, Scorpius leaves for Beauxbatons.

Arranging the transfer right in the middle of the school year cost his father a small fortune, but the man saw no other alternative.

Astoria's murder might have been political, or worse, an act of personal revenge. The Malfoys have been targeted before. Some people, on both sides, still haven't forgiven them the ambiguous stance they took during the war.

The arrangement suits Scorpius just fine.

He hasn't many friends at Hogwarts aside from Albus, and since his mother's passing, life at the Manor has become awkward and painful, too. It might be good to get away for a few months.

While Scorpius is gone, unbeknownst to him, the world back home changes.

~*~

On the twentieth of June, Luna Lovegood arrives at Beauxbatons as a guest lecturer. 

Her goal is to recruit candidates for the Auror training programme, which is now accepting degree-holders from wizarding schools all over the world.

Scorpius doesn't believe in coincidence, so he has to wonder why the people in charge sent her, specifically. She is hardly a typical spokesperson.

He gets his answer soon enough.

After her talk, she asks him to stay behind after class. 

He grits his teeth and nods. It wouldn't do to be openly insubordinate, not when he's this close to getting his diploma. Besides, he's more than a little curious to hear what she has to say as well.

The last student out has barely shut the door behind himself when she says, sounding far too cheerful to his liking, "All right, then. Scorpius, your dad suggested you and I have a bit of a chat."

"What about?" he asks, sitting down on the desk in front of him and crossing his arms in challenge. His father definitely wouldn't approve of such a blatant lack of respect for school property, but his father is miles away. _Thank Merlin._

"Well," comes the pleasant response, "people back home are slightly concerned—your dad especially—about your decision to go to Bulgaria next week. Dragons aren't exactly… No, what I mean is,"—she frowns—"I'm sure the dragons themselves are quite lovely. They're such majestic, fascinating creatures, aren't they? But accidents happen so easily. Are you quite certain that this is what you want to do with the rest of your life, that you aren't merely looking for some route of escape? I imagine these last couple of months couldn't have been easy for you…"

Scorpius almost sneers, but he can't bring himself to be rude or even sarcastic, not when faced with someone so kind and despite her actual age, almost… childlike. Snapping at her would be like torturing a small, fluffy rabbit. 

"Yes, I'm quite certain," he finally says, his tone as neutral as he can manage. "I've always wanted to work with animals, help care for them, and dragons are as good a place to start as any. Besides, the Bulgarian countryside is lovely this time of year. It's been ages, too, since I was last abroad; well, not counting my schooling here, of course, but I daresay that doesn't exactly count."

Luna nods slowly. "Yes, I can certainly understand your thirst for adventure. My father and I, we've been to lots of places, some quite exotic. Travelling is great fun." She smiles to herself, briefly lost in some memory, before she continues, "As far as studying goes, though, can't you do that just as easily in Britain? There's a huge veterinary clinic in Manchester. I took my first Crumple-Horned Snorkack there five years ago. The poor thing had some sort of fungus growing on his left horn. Nasty business that was, but thankfully the people at the hospital were able to help. The place is incredibly well equipped, you know, and their healers specialise in all sorts of creatures, and besides…"

"Yes?" Scorpius urges, his arms still crossed.

"Things back home aren't quite the same without you," she tells him. "You are missed."

"Is that so?" This time, he does sneer. It's impossible not to. "As far as I can tell, just judging from the lack of letters lately, Father has buried himself in work, as he tends to do when life overwhelms him, and as for the one other person who might miss me; Albus… I don't doubt his new girlfriend keeps him adequately entertained. No offence, Miss Lovegood. I'm sure you mean well, but I hardly think anyone is pining for me."

"Well, no, not pining exactly," she says and lets out an involuntary giggle. "That would be a tad melodramatic, don't you think? Even for your fa—No, never mind that. But they do miss you, Scorpius. How could they not?"

The sincere, encouraging smile that follows makes him want to hug her, but for one thing, he's a Malfoy and for another, she's there in an official capacity, so he can't really do that.

Still, he has a strange, sudden feeling that he'll miss her, just a teensy bit, when she returns home.

~*~

Two days before the summer holidays, a magnificent party is thrown in honour of the students who'll soon be leaving Beauxbatons for the real world.

The rock band is loud, the ballroom crowd boisterous and the drink flows freely. 

Not for the first time, Scorpius notices that the French are a lot more laid back about this sort of thing. 

Still, he decides to stick to plain orange juice, himself. He'd rather keep his wits about him and his dignity in tact, especially with cameras snapping all around. 

Everyone seems to be taking pictures tonight, and Scorpius needs that type of attention like he needs a hole in the head. Knowing his luck, his father would probably catch wind of his antics, leave the Manor for the first time in weeks, take a Portkey to France and ruin everything.

Besides, the morning after a booze-up is always such a bother too, particularly the nausea. Scorpius didn't inherit Draco's Potions skills, so he wouldn't be able to brew a hangover remedy even if he could get his hands on the necessary ingredients.

After twenty minutes amongst the partygoers, his head is already reeling from the blaring music. Scorpius isn't used to noise. Malfoy Manor was quiet most of the time, with both his parents considering silence a virtue.

In search of some peace and calm, he walks into a small meeting room.

He didn't expect to find Luna Lovegood there. Dressed in a sky-blue evening gown and silver-coloured flip-flops, she is sitting on a sofa and leafing through a magazine. 

She doesn't seem terribly surprised to see him. "Oh hello, Scorpius," she says, smiling. "Did you know a pair of Blibbering Humdingers has been spotted in the woods near here? Those lovelies are rarely seen in the wild. I should investigate, shouldn't I? Maybe borrow a camera and take a few pictures tomorrow? Dad will be ever so pleased when he wakes up. We might even dedicate a whole feature to this amazing discovery!"

Scorpius sits down next to her, unsure what to say or how to act. He knows about her father's fast deteriorating condition. Two summers ago, in the Brazilian Amazon, the man was attacked by wild animals; the same animals he was trying so hard to save from extinction.

Sometimes life's little ironies aren't funny at all.

"Yes, I'm sure he will be," Scorpius replies awkwardly. "It's very exciting."

Again, she looks at him with that brilliant smile of hers, and he finds himself wondering what she truly thinks of him. 

"You've got very pretty eyes," she suddenly says, out of nowhere. "Especially for a boy. Grey with blue speckles. Quite fascinating. I don't think Draco's are like that. Of course, I don't know him that well."

Scorpius frowns. "I beg your pardon?" 

Without really knowing why, he scoots slightly closer. She has pretty eyes, too, he ponders, and even this close-up, she looks genuinely beautiful, a real woman, nothing like those empty-headed Beauxbatons girls who all look alike and constantly talk about the same irrelevant nonsense. 

He takes a deep breath. Perhaps the pounding music that still echoes through his head has muddled his mind, or the homesickness he'd never admit to in his sober state is clouding his judgement, but here and now, only one course of action makes sense. 

He leans closer and kisses her on the lips. 

Somewhere at the back of his mind, he expects to be slapped. He didn't even ask for permission. 

Instead, she kisses him back like it's the most normal, obvious thing in the world.

Perhaps to her, it is. 

His father once said she was the least judgemental person he'd ever met. She probably doesn't care about things like age differences or what other people might think of the choices she makes.

The latter is a freedom Scorpius can only dream of, but hopefully that will change once he's standing on his own two feet.

He is about to lean in for a second kiss when all of a sudden, an outraged voice shrieks: "Mon Dieu! Quelle bordelle!"

Startled, Scorpius releases Luna. His gaze darts around the room and he soon discovers that the voice belongs to a portrait. 

From the colourful canvas on the opposite wall, a grey-haired woman in a dark, dull dress and sensible shoes gives him a stern look as she covers the eyes of the small child standing in front of her.

Scorpius' shocked embarrassment fast turns into fury. He meets the woman's gaze head-on and declares in perfect French, "This is really none of your concern, _Madame_, and furthermore, making a lot of noise isn't terribly wise when one might so easily be reduced to ashes."

A shocked gasp and the portrait goes black, like someone just switched off its lights. 

Luna giggles, breaking the sudden silence. 

Scorpius coughs nervously. "I, er, should probably go to bed," he says. "Busy day tomorrow; packing for a long journey and all that." 

"Oh?" Luna blinks. "Okay. Well, good night then, Scorpius."

He gets up quickly, never looking back, not even once, as he strides out of the room. 

Back in his dorm, tossing and turning in his soft bed, he can hardly believe what he did. He kissed a woman old enough to be his mother.

Has he gone completely mental? This is exactly the kind of teenage stupidity a Malfoy can no longer afford. 

It's a good thing he'll be in Bulgaria in forty-eight hours. Perhaps time and distance will help him regain his sanity. 

~*~

Soon after Scorpius leaves Beauxbatons, life in Wiltshire becomes more complicated.

The murder investigation reaches an impasse.

A rather bizarre development, Scorpius thinks when he learns about it, but seemingly he is the only one who feels that way. 

Other people are quick to carry on with their lives; even his father, who falls head over heels into a new relationship, and this only a few months after Astoria's untimely death, too.

~*~

Scorpius' anger and disappointment linger bitterly throughout his stay in Bulgaria and make him all the more determined to do well on his training course. 

If he passes with flying colours, perhaps he won't need to return home again; not right away, at any rate.

Nine months later, he manages to impress Charlie Weasley, who happens to be visiting the area to catch up with some old friends. 

Not caring that the boy is a Malfoy, Charlie offers Scorpius the opportunity to work with the dragons at his recently set-up reserve.

Scorpius eagerly accepts. The work experience will be brilliant, and furthermore, the name 'Weasley' is bound to get an entertaining reaction from his father, who couldn't be sinking faster in Scorpius' esteem if he tried.

~*~

Four years later finds Scorpius living in Saint-Remèze in the French Ardèche. 

From his south loft window, he can see the bustle of the lively village and further in the distance, acres and acres of lavender fields. 

On a good day, when the wind blows in the right direction, the scent of lavender seeps into his flat and fills him with a calm he never felt at the Manor.

With plenty of qualifications under his belt, he's currently in the process of setting up France's first veterinary clinic that specialises exclusively in magical creatures. 

His relationship with his father still hasn't improved. 

On the contrary, it has reached the point where it's practically non-existent.

Sadly, the same can also be said for his one-time friendship with Albus, and for the exact same reason. 

Harry _bloody_ Potter.

The man has taken up residence at Malfoy Manor and will become Draco Malfoy's official life partner next November.

Scorpius grits his teeth every time he thinks about the upcoming Bonding. The prospect—no, the whole relationship—is just too vile and sordid for words, especially after all the vitriol his father used to spew about _Saint Potter_ also known as _The Boy Who Wouldn't Sodding Snuff It_.

As far as Scorpius is concerned, whoever invented the expression 'a thin line between love and hate' should be hung, drawn and quartered, and that goes doubly for whichever deity thought it would be amusing to put the cliché into practice here.

Meanwhile, Astoria's killer still hasn't been caught. 

Is anyone even looking anymore? Scorpius has his doubts. The case file is probably gathering dust in an archive somewhere, with the murder destined to become one of those unsolved mysteries people will speculate wildly about at some undetermined point in the faraway future.

Scorpius shakes his head and wills himself back to the present. 

He picks up a fresh cantaloupe and carefully examines it for ripeness. He frequents this small organic market every Tuesday. He likes to do his own cooking—the Muggle way—and use as much fresh produce as possible. It helps him relax. Inner peace is sometimes hard to find, even here.

He hands the seller the money and turns to walk to the bakery stall when suddenly, he hears a pleasant voice behind him say, "Scorpius Malfoy, is that you?"

Puzzled, he turns around. 

The sight that greets him almost takes his breath away.

Luna Lovegood is standing there. Dressed in green and with her long blonde hair loose, she is even more beautiful than he remembers.

"Hello, Miss Lovegood," he says the minute he finds his voice. "You're looking well."

"So are you," she replies. "You've, um, certainly grown up since we last saw one another."

Anyone else would probably receive a cutting retort to that. From anyone else, a remark like that would feel patronising, possibly even insulting. 

From anyone else, but not from her.

She isn't like ordinary people.

As far has he's concerned, she's the exact opposite of ordinary.

For a long moment, they look at each other, neither saying a word.

When Scorpius finally invites her to his apartment, they both know a cup of coffee has very little to do with it. 

~*~

The front door slams shut with a loud bang. 

Scorpius doesn't notice. 

Eagerly but gently, he pushes Luna against the wall and kisses her full on the lips. He has wanted to do this for ages. He has dreamed of it ever since the night of that party. 

Luna is the first woman who ever captured his interest (no, that brief crush on Rose Weasley when he was thirteen really doesn't count) and none of the girls he has slept with since (four of them in total, if we're to get specific) could even begin to compare to her; even if they were very kind and quite pretty, too.

Luna doesn't say a word, just wraps her arms around his neck and without hesitation, deepens the kiss. She doesn't hold back. He doesn't suppose she ever does, with anything.

Somewhere through his haze, he wants to ask her things, like why she never Owled him, not once during all those years. 

But perhaps he already knows the answer. It was probably for the same reason why she is going along with this so easily, so shamelessly now.

She is a free spirit, always has been, following her heart wherever it might lead, consequences be damned.

He can hardly fault her that. 

Another kiss. It leaves him breathless. 

No one else has ever kissed him like she does, so intensely, like nothing else matters and there's nothing in the whole wide world she'd rather do.

Clothing is discarded quickly. They still haven't spoken a word since they first entered the flat. Her dress falls to the floor, followed by her knickers. 

She's not wearing a bra. Scorpius isn't surprised.

His gaze lingers on her sensual hourglass figure. His hands roam over her pale, velvet soft skin. His fingers don't tremble. He is perfectly at ease. This feels inexplicably right, almost like he has been waiting for this moment, subconsciously living towards it for years.

The first time, they don't make it to the bed.

Kissing and touching, not letting go of one another for even one second, they shuffle towards the wall until Luna's back is pressed up against it.

"What are you waiting for, Scorpius?" she asks softly. 

"Nothing." He lets out a low chuckle. "Nothing at all." 

He lifts her up slightly and she wraps her legs around his waist. 

"You're amazing," she whispers, her warm breath caressing his left ear. "I can't believe we waited this long."

"I-I was seventeen the last time we met," he manages in a ragged tone, "and you were…" It would be rude to mention her age, and probably a bit of a mood killer too, so he doesn't. It hardly matters anyhow.

"Seventeen would have been old enough," she whispers, sounding like she has thought this through at great length, "but you didn't seem to want to back then. But there would always be… _later_."

He gulps, surprised despite himself, but doesn't utter another word. 

There's no further need to speak.

Soon he is moving inside her and she pushes back against him, her fingers digging in his back.

They fall into a comfortable, almost familiar rhythm, like they've done this a thousand times before, perhaps in a previous life when they were different people but equally well matched.

Not before long, their movements become faster, more urgent.

Scorpius' last coherent thought before he loses himself to the moment—to _her_—is that this is the most amazing thing he has ever done.

And this time he won't run.

He will never run again.

~*~

Hard rain clatters loudly against the window. 

Scorpius gazes outside, over the worn rooftops to the lavender-covered fields, purple and bright as far as the eye can see.

He fell in love with this flat the very minute he first walked through the door. The place may be small and humble, especially by Malfoy standards, but it's all his own. 

He refused to take even a Knut of his father's money, although the man offered his help on numerous occasions; or tried to buy his way back into his son's good graces, depending on how one chooses to look at it.

Scorpius wouldn't give up his independence for the world. 

Besides, whatever would his father think of this, his son sleeping with an older woman and intending to do it again? 

Scorpius smiles wryly. _Nothing good, that much is certain, even if he's hardly in a position to object._

But that's not his problem anymore. He is finally free, a Malfoy on his own terms, no longer a slave to an archaic family legacy, or his father's judgement.

His mother would have been proud of him.

"Scorpius?"

He turns around.

Luna is standing in the bedroom doorway, wearing his blue bathrobe. Her eyes sparkle, and her loving smile makes his stomach flip. 

"I have to return to England next week," she begins, getting straight to the point as usual. "I need to sort something out at the paper. One of the editors will be retiring soon and there's a mountain of tedious paperwork to plough through; well, you know how it is."

Scorpius nods, curious where this is going. Is he about to get the 'it's been fun, but now I must go' speech? That hardly seems Luna's style, somehow. 

"I was thinking," she continues, "perhaps you'd like to join me? It shouldn't take me longer than a week to get everything settled."

Scorpius hesitates. "I really don't think…"

Another dazzling smile stops him dead in his tracks. "You're waiting for the building permit to come through anyway, aren't you, for that extension you want for the clinic? Surely you can take a week off in the meantime…"

"Er," he says with none of his usual eloquence. 

"Besides, isn't it time you spoke with your father? You two haven't seen each other face to face in years. You know how distance breeds all sorts of misunderstandings. I can imagine his… relationship with Harry must have come as a shock to you. I was rather surprised, myself. But it isn't as though either of them planned it to happen. That's one of those strange and beautiful things about love; it grabs you by the heart when you least expect it."

Scorpius grits his teeth. Luna isn't one for the subtle approach. He already knew that much, of course, and yet this confrontation is quite unexpected, especially after what happened earlier. Her timing is a little… _off_, isn't it? Not to mention her sense of romance. _Bloody hell._ Is this the sort of thing they should be discussing now?

"You know," she then adds, her tone uncharacteristically solemn, "I still regret not spending more time with my dad before he passed away last year. So many things I wish I'd done. So much stuff I'd wanted to tell him about. Still, I imagine it would have been even worse if we'd had some… unresolved matters standing between us. I never would have forgiven myself, you know."

Scorpius swallows thickly. That was a horrible, manipulative and practically Slytherin thing to say. 

What's worse, it actually works. He feels like he was just punched in the gut.

"Fine," he replies, grudgingly, turning his gaze back to the purple fields. "I'll Owl the Manor in the morning. I can't promise anything, but I suppose I can try to"—his voice drops to a whisper—"keep an open mind."

Luna's genuine smile reflected in the damp window makes his irritating defeat almost worth it.


End file.
